


3:37, October 8th

by hirokiyuu



Series: time & date [2]
Category: Persona 5, Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Persona 5 Spoilers, mentions of canon-typical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 06:22:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15657555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hirokiyuu/pseuds/hirokiyuu
Summary: Akechi Goro has a discussion about art.





	3:37, October 8th

He’d had a case up in Shibuya that day, past the Scramble down to the side streets where his bike would’ve been inconvenient, and so it was only because he was walking that the mural caught his eye. Tucked halfway down an alley, its paint seemed to shine despite the grime surrounding it. 

Goro paused a moment in the sidewalk, and then turned. The area was practically empty, which a given, considering the filth it housed. Goro moved onward anyways, coming to a stop right in front of the graffiti and staring. There was no reason it should’ve caught his attention, he thought, looking up at it. It wasn’t even  _ good _ , just a dumb obvious metaphor in the form of a pair of headphones wrapped almost lovingly around a gun -- and yet Goro couldn’t bring his feet to move.

“Do you like it?”

Goro didn’t jump, but it was a near thing. His time in the Metaverse had sharpened his senses; he couldn’t remember the last time someone had managed to sneak up on him. Still, he was in public, so he pasted a smile onto his face before he turned, shoulders very carefully held loose.

The man who’d spoken to Goro looked to be no older than twenty-five, slouching just slightly with a hand tucked into his pocket. Dressed all in athletic wear, headphones around his neck, Goro took him in and resisted the urge to sneer -- what kind of adult still bleached his hair?

“It’s interesting, I suppose,” Goro said, and despite himself found his focus returning to the mural. He had the strangest urge to run his hands over it. “The technical skill appears to be quite high, but I can’t say I necessarily approve of the subject matter.”

“Yeah?” the stranger said, sounding curious. “Why not?”

Goro could indulge him. “This country,” he said, “has a fascination with the aesthetic of guns -- and yet most people have never even seen one in their life, much less used one.” Almost against his will he reached up, pressed a hand to the grip painted on the wall. With his gloves on he could imagine the texture of cool steel under his palms. “The sentiment is nice, I suppose -- acceptance of something created to cause pain -- but as I sincerely doubt the artist has ever had to face the kind of damage a weapon like this can unleash, it’s hard for me to see the choice of subject matter as anything other than a cheap ploy to draw attention.”

“Huh.” Goro looked back over. The stranger’d moved at some point, nearer to Goro, and he was watching the place where Goro had touched the wall with sharp eyes that made Goro snatch his hand away. “Interesting take. Can’t say I agree, though.”

“Oh?” Goro said, smiling politely. He was starting to regret this conversation.

The stranger reached up, tapped his knuckles against the wall. “Well, the gun’s not pointed at the viewer, even though that’d be shock value. You can see the barrel’s empty, too. I mean -- guns aren’t dangerous unless they’re loaded, right? So I guess what I’m trying to say is, even if the artist might not’ve actually shot a gun, he still understands them. He knows what makes them dangerous -- and he knows how to be safe around them.”

Goro laughed pleasantly, despite the souring taste in his mouth. “A gun is a gun,” he said, “whether or not it’s empty.” His fingers were itching to touch the mural again and so Goro shifted his briefcase behind his back, holding onto it with both hands, and then turned he couldn’t see it at all. “All it’s good for is hurting people.”

The stranger eyed Goro over for one long moment. “Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree,” he said, eventually. “Seems like you feel pretty strongly about this, though. Spend a lot of time thinking about guns?”

“I’m a detective, actually,” Goro said with his best TV smile. “Akechi Goro.”

The stranger blinked, the lack of recognition clear on his face. “Wait, like an actual detective?” Goro nodded. “With the police and everything?” Another nod. Was this man really this stupid or did he just think Goro looked that incompetent? “Hold on, aren’t you in high school? How do you have time to go to club and hang out with your friends and all that while you’re working?”

“Oh, that sort of thing isn’t terribly important,” Goro said. “I’ve found that my interests are often quite misaligned with those of my peers, so….” As Goro spoke, the man’s expression had furrowed down into something distinctly unimpressed, and so before he could say anything Goro cut him off at the pass, feeling the weapon radiating ice from his side. “But it’s getting quite late. While this has been a most stimulating conversation, I’m afraid I must be leaving.”

Goro brushed past the man, ignoring the urge to turn and give the mural one last look. What an absolutely meaningless exchange, what a total waste of time -- and yet when the stranger called out, “Hey!” Goro couldn’t help but turn around.

The barrel of the gun seems to extend from one shoulder, the loop of the headphones from the other. The set of the stranger’s mouth suddenly made him look much older. “This’ll probably sound preachy,” he said, scrubbing a hand through his hair, “and I know I wouldn’t listen to some stranger if I was in your shoes. But… make sure you’ve got someone in your corner, okay? Someone you can rely on.”

For a moment Goro’s whole body felt far away, a part of some strange distant galaxy he’d never seen, and then rage swept through it in a cold terrible wave. Absently, he wondered if it would  be too late to ask for the man’s name. Everyone had a shadow, after all. Everyone had a part of themself that Goro could hurt.

“Don’t worry,” he said, each word bitten out crisp and lovely. “I’ve always been fine on my own.”

Before he could see what face the stranger could make Goro was already turning, striding out of the alley just a touch too fast. He had things to do today, after all, responsibilities that couldn’t be pushed back for a conversation with some idiotic loser that managed to be less mature than a fucking teenager.

At the station, Goro stopped. He’d planned to drop by Leblanc today, do a little reconnaissance, but right now the thought of seeing Kurusu made him want to vomit. It was good, then, that Goro’s plans could easily be restructured. He pulled his phone out, tapped open the Metaverse app. Around him the air grew heavy, noise dying down, and when he exhaled his breath fogged up the dark glass that now hung in front of his face.

_ Someone you can rely on. _

Goro scoffed, and let himself fade into the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this on and off since I posted the last TWEWY/P5 crossover, but this one took a little more work, mostly because of who Akechi Goro is as a person. This series is lowkey becoming a vessel for all my post-canon TWEWY thoughts.
> 
> Find me on twitter @yuunamakis or on tumblr at @hirokiyuu!
> 
> Comments & Kudos are always appreciated! <3


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